


Arlandia

by RuthTheWriter



Category: Charmed (TV 1998)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24553384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuthTheWriter/pseuds/RuthTheWriter
Summary: Many years ago, the demon Lord Falar posed a threat to both whitelighters and other demons alike. They worked together to trap him in a book written by his son, Emilio. Caught up in his fight with the Charmed Ones, Zankou releases Falar from the book, instructing him to kill AEthelflaed, their vampire friend. However, will Falar carry out his mission or will his feelings get in the way?
Relationships: Ethel/Fabio
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. All That Has Gone Before

Lord Falar is my name. It wasn’t the name that I was born with. It’s a demon name and I live up to it for all that I am worth. I am a dark being, a black hole personified. Cold and heartless, I pull everyone and everything down with me and I take pleasure in watching others suffer, especially if I have caused that suffering myself. The most powerful of all demons that has ever existed, I put all others to shame. After that fateful day when my entire life shattered into a million pieces, I was never the same. I absorbed the life forces of all the demons I came across and felt their power surge through me. Burning with energy I was indestructible, or so I thought. For a century I was a prisoner to my own emotions, until that fateful day when I became a physical prisoner too. 

In an ironic twist of fate, I had only been looking at the book the day before it happened. It was my most prized possession and normally it lay on a velvet cushion in a gold box surrounded by glass reinforced by magic. I both loved and loathed the volume in equal measure. It was the only thing which I had that once belonged to my son. Emilio had written a story in it and he’d even illustrated it using his own watercolours. Being the son of an Italian Count, he had the best that money could buy. Being who he was, no bookbinder could refuse his request, even if he was only ten years old. With lots of money and plenty of time on his hands, he had let his imagination run wild. I despaired that he was more interested in writing than learning philosophy. But I smiled at him ruefully and hoped that it was just a phase. Little did I know exactly how important the book would be in deciding my destiny.  
Fast forward a century later and my son and wife had been murdered in cold blood and I was a damaged man. If I was even a man at all. I paced up and down my chamber and the book lay on my desk, released from its usual cage. The previous morning, I had felt an urge to look at it again. Even after all these years, I still felt a stab of pain when I read the dedication:

Dearest Father of Mine,  
I dedicate this book to you in the hope that one day you may soar over these mountains. Join me in my quest, for the imagination knows no bounds and the day is long.  
Your ever-loving son,  
Emilio. 

I cried reading the inscription and a drop of moisture fell on the musty page. It would be a long time before I ever cried again. The following day, there it sat on the desk, almost as if it were alive and had a mind of its own. Meanwhile, I paced up and down angrily, my face made of cold stone. Suddenly, I stopped. My ears detected the faintest of noises. A slight ringing sound in the air. It was the sound of magical transportation. I whirled to face my attackers: a mixture of demons and whitelighters in their pure white hoods. I was so evil that I threatened both the darkness and the light. To my knowledge, no such collaboration had ever happened before. At the sight of them my lips pulled back in a feral grin, a terrible parody of a smile. I raised my hands to throw a ball of dark energy at them, but something was different this time. Instead of coming at me one by one, they were joining hands. Then they all began to chant in Enochian, the language of the first whitelighters, the founding fathers of the light. I still remember the chant now:

‘Elendil coalia regnum librio ecto sum. Sumeria nalia filofia quadra. Arlandia ecliptica ergo.’

I only recognised one word out of all of them: Arlandia. Why were they chanting the title of my son’s book? The next thing I knew, I was surrounded by white light that blinded my eyes. I tried to shield them with my hands. I felt the air whip around me as it formed a tunnel. With a deafening roar, I felt myself being sucked in towards the book. Then everything went black. 

What was happening to me?


	2. Zankou and Destiny

Zankou’s Point of View 

My plan was all in place. Everything had been worked out, down to the last detail. Now all I needed to do was inform that motley gang of idiots what I wanted them to do and hope that they had enough IQ points not to screw up. I stood and strolled towards the main antechamber where they were all gathered. They were standing together in little groups, whispering in earnest and exchanging nervous glances. I sensed rebellion in the air. Well this would shut them up. Raising my voice, I shouted ‘Silence! All of you be quiet and listen to me. I have a plan that I want to share with you all.’ I spread my hands wide, ‘Of course, you may leave if you do not wish to hear it. But bear in mind, you will be leaving without your head.’ At the sound of my voice, they looked round with guilt written on their faces. They all simultaneously knelt in front of me and bowed their heads. One imbecile decided to speak: ‘Of c-course Zankou. We are all very eager to hear this magnificent speech of yours.’ I smiled savagely at him and patted him on the shoulder. ‘Java, I knew you would say something. You always do say the right thing.’ He nodded in nervous agreement, ‘I-’, he began. I stopped him, putting a finger to my lips. He immediately broke off. I continued, ‘But what did I ask you to do?’ I paused, ‘I asked you to keep quiet, didn’t I?’ He gulped and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his worthless skull. I moved towards him, ‘But then, you never do what you are told, do you?’ Moving even closer, I put my mouth to his ear and whispered, ‘You know I don’t think there’s any reason to keep your head on your shoulders. You clearly don’t have a brain, do you, so what’s the use? In fact, why don’t I help you out?’ And with that I wrenched his head from his miserable body and kicked it into the middle of the crowd. They responded with stunned silence and looked at me with fear in their eyes. ‘Excellent! Finally, I get what I wanted!’ I grinned at them, ‘Now let me tell you what I was going to say!’ 

My plan was to get into the whitelighter’s sacred store. They had something that I desired and I would sacrifice as many demons as necessary in order to get it. It was my only chance of defeating her and weakening the Charmed ones in the process. Humans are slaves to their own emotion and the strongest emotion is love. They thought of her as a sister and if he destroyed her then they would be devastated and easy prey. That would make getting to the nexus even easier. One of the demons in the group had the power of transformation and he would turn me into a whitelighter. A group of twenty demons (all hand-picked by me) would then attack. In the chaos, I would then have the perfect excuse to go in search of the book. If I was stopped, I could say that I was just checking the store, to make sure than no demons had stolen it. After all it was possible that the demons were crazy enough to set him free. What a coup!   
I could just picture her face and the light in her eyes dimming as she faded away. What a sweet, sweet thought!

…….

Everything was going according to plan. The diversion was in full swing and I hurried to the store. I was posing as a whitelighter with short blonde hair and blues eyes. My sweet face a picture of concern, my white hood thrown back in haste, I ran towards my destination. Suddenly I was stopped by a female whitelighter. ‘Where are you going brother? Do you not know that we are under attack?’ She asked anxiously. ‘Indeed sister. That is why I hurry towards the store. I fear that the demons are after the book and I am eager to prevent it from getting into their clutches!’ I pitched my voice higher at the end to give the appearance of panic. Understanding dawned in her eyes and with a nod of approval she let me go. 

A few minutes later I managed to enter the store and I barricaded myself in. Now, where was my prize? I looked around, scanning the room. My eyes took in a cobbled white stone floor, bookshelves with their contents chained down and mysterious coloured orbs that whistled and floated over my head. I knew that it was so powerful and dangerous that they would have a great deal of security around it. It wouldn’t be easy to get to. I reached out with my hands and extended my newfound senses. Suddenly, I felt a solid wall in the air. I pushed against it and a shape began to form. It slowly materialized near the far end wall. It looked like an enchanted safe and I could see a panel of gold numbers appear before me. They shivered and shimmered, floating into view on top of a silver box. It made sense that there was a code to crack, but I knew I did not have much time. What could it be? After trying what seemed like endless combinations, I finally solved it. The keyboard melted away and I heard a whirring as the box began to open. It drifted towards me and I caught it with eager hands. I placed it on the table near me and gazed in awe as the box slowly folded, revealing what was within. I had done it! My prize was secured and all my efforts had been rewarded. Fate was on my side and everything was falling into place. 

Shortly afterwards, having slipped away in the ensuing chaos, I arrived back at the hideout. To my relief, the twenty mischief makers had also made it back unscathed. In the back of my mind there had been a fear that they would get caught and they would let slip what had happened. The others back at base had also done what I asked and captured the whitelighter that I had been impersonating and given him false memories. He was now convinced that he had indeed gone to check on the book. Our resident illusionist demon then created a fake copy of the book which we then handed to the whitelighter who would claim to have saved it from a demon who had been trying to steal it. I almost congratulated them all on their valiant efforts, but I stopped myself just in time. We are demons and that sort of thing is just not done. Better to be feared than loved. Instead, I nodded at them in approval and took the book with me to my lair, slamming the door in their expectant faces. Now it was just me and the book. The moment that I had been waiting for had come at last.   
…….

Rubbing my hands and laughing in triumph, I opened the book. As I flicked through the pages, I glimpsed colourful watercolours of castles, dragons, forests and rivers. I snorted. What childish fantasies! But the book would serve my purposes and I was more interested in who was trapped inside rather than the book itself. Now I just had to free him. For hours I had studied the chant that the demons and whitelighters had used to trap him. The books of magical lore said what the spell was, but the authors had enough sense to leave out instructions for undoing the spell. Maybe they didn’t even know. I rolled my eyes, nothing would surprise me. Eventually, I reasoned that reciting the charm backwards and replacing the words of imprisonment with calls for release would probably work. I gripped the book and began to chant. 

A minute later, I finished the last word. I looked at the book expectantly, willing it to work. Nothing happened. Other demons would have thrown an angry fit, but I knew better. I had an awful temper, but I am a schemer and I know when to wait and when to let anger rule me. I sensed that I needed to wait. Before long, my patience was rewarded. The book began to glow with a golden light. Faint at first, but soon it was radiating light and heat like the sun. I cautiously stepped back and watched in fascination. It was finally happening! I could see tendrils of black and red smoke were curling out of the pages. Although the smoke was insubstantial, it was still eerie and menacing. I almost pinched myself. I was a fearless demon, unlike those morons outside. Why should I be apprehensive? The smoke started pouring out of the book, running down the legs of the table and flowing along the floor. I fought the urge to step back even further to escape its clutches. I planted my feet firmly on the ground and psyched myself up. There was a reason this demon was imprisoned, whispered a voice in my head. Having been trapped for centuries, he was undoubtedly even more angry that he had been before. I started to doubt whether this was a good idea. I shook myself, there was no going back now. Lost in thought, I almost jumped when a finger appeared out of the pages. It grasped and moved around, feeling the texture of the page. Its twin then appeared on the other side of the book. Strong arms then broke through and I saw that he was clothed in dark silk robes with arcane symbols on the sleeves. They glimmered menacingly in the light. Broad shoulders then emerged, accompanied by a neck from which hung a dark dragon pendant. The dragon’s eyes were burning red jewels and its maw gaped open, showing a row of sharp teeth. Within minutes, his head appeared and his waist, legs and feet came into view. His body rigid with effort, he stretched and freed himself from his prison. 

Now that I had a clear view of him, it did nothing to dispel my doubts. A fair and cold face gazed at me. His face was a blank slate and his eyes were rimmed with dark makeup. Those eyes were full of naked fury. They burned with dark fire and they flashed at me. His skin was lightly tanned and his face was framed by a mane of light brown hair that curled in waves to just below his shoulders. Nevertheless, I was the one in charge. I had freed him and he owed me. Besides, I could always threaten to send him back where he came from. This knowledge gave me the confidence to speak. A slow, wolfish grin spread across my face. ‘Lord Falar, how good it is to have you back. I am a demon like you and my name is Zankou. There is something that I would like you to do for me and I believe that we can come to an understanding.’


	3. The Hunt

Falar's/Fabio's Point of View

Even after centuries of living, I can still be surprised. That morning the day dawned in Arlandia. I had not woken up, because I never slept. No rest for the wicked as they say. For hours and hours I had been discussing matters of state with my council. We debated whether to bring in an army of evil dragons to guard the castle gate, whether to make taxes higher and how to deal with the increasing number of dissidents imprisoned in the castle. The Jester, my trusty adviser, showed a drawing of a new kind of torture rack that we could use to loosen up their tongues. As usual, he had done a fine job and I heartily approved of his design. We held a vote and it was given unanimous approval. Afterwards, I stood up and proceeded to give my ending speech. ‘Gentleman and ladies,’ I glanced at the three witches on the board, ‘I adjourn this meeting, but what a productive session it has been! We have made advances towards dealing with our main problem. Unfortunately, the pathetic cries of the populace can be ignored no longer. They cry for food and water, justice and freedom and they forget all that we have given them. They do not deserve to even breath, but we let them share our air. These selfish ingrates constantly seek to undermine our government. If it is war that they want, it’s a war they are going to get. Call on the dragons and remind of them of our pact and watch our enemies burn. Perhaps this cleansing fire will show them the error of their ways. As for those already held within these walls, well, the Jester knows how to deal with them.’ I held up my glace of wine, ‘I end this meeting with a toast in his honour! Long may he continue to produce these amazing designs!’ 

With that, everyone raised their glasses of nightshade wine and drank. 

After all the others had left the chamber, no one was left except for the Jester and I. Having rolled up his poster, he came to join me at the head of the table. The moment of joy having past, I stared moodily into space. A pair of fingers snapped in my face. 

‘I beg your pardon Sire, but I was just trying to talk to you.’ He smiled slyly at me. 

His short hair ruffled and his black top hat resting jauntily on his head, he was every inch the Jester. I had no friends here, evil people never do. But he was the closest thing that I had to one. If anyone else had snapped their fingers in my face, I would have annihilated them. 

I rolled my eyes at him and asked, ‘What is it Jester?’ 

Raising his eyebrows at me, his spread his hands on the table. ‘Well, I was just wondering how you think the operation is going?’ 

I looked at him with dead eyes, ‘I told you how I think it’s going. I just told all of you. What more do you want?’ I three up my hands in exasperation. 

He drew in a breath and paused, as if considering his words carefully, ‘I sense that there is something that you are not telling us. I do not care if you feel you cannot tell the others, but I have been your adviser for millennia and I was hoping that if you had any misgivings, then you would tell me.’ 

He moved his hand and placed it on my shoulder. I started, why was he touching me?! He was my servant, that was all. He knew how I felt about emotions in general. 

I grabbed his hand and shook it off violently. I stood up, my whole body shaking with rage, ‘How DARE you touch me! You are getting above your station Jester! Let me be clear, you SERVE me, we are NOT friends. Love and affection and brotherhood are things that those peasants endorse. WHO DO YOU THINK I AM??’ I spat in his face, my own contorted in fury. ‘I think you need a reminder!’ Next second, a ball of dark energy materialised in my hand and my eyes burned ruby red. The floor beneath our feet started to creak and the all the windows in the room were forced open by the powerful wind conjured up by my dark magic. I would have thrown the energy at him but it was at that moment that I was pulled back by the wind. I thought that it had been of my own making, but it seemed that something else had caused it. I cursed and shouted spells but my words were drowned out in the twister that picked me up. What the hell was going on now??

……….  
Next thing I knew, I was reaching up with my hands, trying to figure out where I was going. Although all I could see was the endless whiteness of the Arlandian sky, when I reached up, I could feel a barrier. It was as if the sky had an end. But how was that even possible? I reached higher and it appeared that one of my fingers had broken through and out the other side. The barrier itself felt papery and thin, like the pages of a book. For a moment, I felt stunned. Could it be that after all these years I was finally being released? But how and why? Well, I certainly wasn’t going to turn down that opportunity. My hands felt around and I thrust my arms up, hoping that they would clear the barrier too. Finally, my entire top half was free and my body was coming out of the book. Once I was standing on a cold stone floor I looked around at my surroundings. I was in a cave dwelling with earthen walls but I had no idea where I was. I certainly wasn’t in Arlandia anymore. A table sat behind me with the book and a crystal ball on it. In front of me stood a demon with short dark hair. He appeared to be Middle Eastern in origin and he was clothed in black leather and he had a smattering of dark hair above his lips and a harsh demeanour. In spite of this, I could see a look of uncertainty in his eyes. I returned his expression with a freezing glare. After all, demons were the ones who helped imprison me in the book in the first place. I was a demon myself but my past and my powers had made me an exile. I never identified with them and I was convinced that I never would. I hated everybody, regardless of what side of the fence they were on. 

I did not speak a word to my new companion. I was almost curious to see what his opening line would be. I saw that he had regained his composure and a grin spread across his face, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. I could tell that this man was an animal but one who had control over his emotions. He knew when to break out of the cage and when to reign himself in. That surprised me and I felt a grudging respect for him. It wasn’t always easy for demons to achieve that. 

He stepped forwards and started to speak, ‘Lord Falar, how good it is to have you back. I am a demon like you and my name is Zakou. There is something I would like you to do for me and I believe that we can come to an understanding.’

I moved towards him and smiled a cruel, thin-lipped smile. ‘You are playing a dangerous game, fellow demon. You released me from the book, which means that you must know my history. Do you really think that you can force me to do anything? Now that I am free what is to stop me from killing you and going about my own business?’ My eyes gleamed, ‘Oh how I would love to see you burn, my friend. Believe me, I’ll make sure it is not quick.’ 

An amused smile on his face, my companion did not seem at all frightened. ‘You see the thing is, I can make you do exactly what I want. You forget that it is I who freed you and therefore I can put you back, my friend. the original spell and it is far beyond your reach. The only volume of magical lore than contains the spell is in my possession and you will not be able to get your hands on it. If you don’t do what I ask, I might just remember where it is,’ He leaned very close ‘and we wouldn’t want that, would we?’ 

I fumed and could barely keep my mouth from drawing back in an inhuman snarl. ‘Your threats don’t scare me, you impudent worm.’ 

Zankou raised his eyebrows, ‘Of course they don’t. It certainly doesn’t look that way, does it?’ he asked smoothly. 

I had barely known this demon for five minutes and already I wanted to rip him in two. The only thing keeping me going was the thought of how I would destroy him. But for the moment he was my master and I knew I would have to bide my time. 

‘Now, surely, you must want to know exactly what it is that I want. I bet you are dying to know, aren’t you?’ 

I gritted my teeth in frustration, ‘Of course’, I replied tensely. 

‘Of course MASTER,’ he corrected me. 

My pride would not allow me to say the words, so I just nodded. Seeming satisfied and clearly enjoying my discomfort, he decided to continue. ‘My request is this. I am currently fighting against three witches. Good witches. They are called the Charmed ones and they are the most powerful witches of all time. Numerous demons have tried and failed to defeat them before-,’ 

I cut in, ‘You want me to take care of them for you, is that it?’ 

He glared at me, annoyed. ‘You will not interrupt me, servant’, he pointed a finger at me. ‘I do not want you to take care of them. I want to destroy them myself. What I want you to do is to kill their friend. She is old and even more powerful than them.’ 

I snorted, ‘So you are afraid of an old woman?’ 

He growled in frustration, ‘Be quiet, I said! If you would let me finish then you can understand the whole story. She is not old in a frail, human sense. She has lived for centuries. She is a vampire, an immortal.’ He paused, ‘As you know, vampires usually feed off humans and destroy them. They are pesky things and they were exiled from the underworld a long time ago. But this one is especially powerful. She was made in the 9th century and she chose to ally with humans soon afterwards. She refused to drink human blood, believing it was wrong. Unlike most vampires, she still has her human soul and has not given in to her animal nature,' he sighed, ‘she met the Charmed ones six years ago and has helped them ever since. Together they save innocents and make the world a better place,’ he looked as if he had eaten something sour, ‘they think of her as a sister and they would be devastated if she were killed. That will make them vulnerable and easier to defeat.’ 

I frowned, ‘Why have you not killed her yourself?’ A look of embarrassment quickly spread across his features before it melted away. ‘I have not been able to. I have tried time and again, but all I got were these scars,’ he showed me several deep cuts and burn marks on his chest and arms. ‘She had several powers: fire, energy manipulation and mind control. Not to mention physical strength. I’ve lost count of how many buildings we have destroyed in our fights. Lord Falar, your reputation precedes you and I was hoping that you would be powerful enough to defeat her in my place.’ 

……..  
Zankou told me that this woman went by two names. To the outside world, she went by the name Lori Skold, but her real name was Ethel, short for AEthelflaed. She had been born an Anglo-Saxon maiden and that was her true name. But only the Charmed ones and some other friends knew this. She lived in an apartment near the San Francisco central hospital and worked as a hacker for the local police. She hacked into computers of suspicious people and helped collect incriminating evidence against them. I was told by Zankou that ‘computers’ were boxes on which images and documents could be stored. This did not puzzle me, Arlandia had had many strange creatures and objects. Granted, they were all he fruits of my son’s imagination, but still. 

In order to track her we needed an object that belonged to her. Luckily Zankou had an earring that she had dropped during one of their encounters. I grasped it in my palm and a minute later I arrived in her apartment. Quickly I used my power of invisibility. This was fortunate, as the next minute she walked right through the door. Zankou had described her to me, so I knew that it was her. But I was still not prepared. Seeing her in the flesh was different to just imagining her in my head. I gazed at her. For a moment I stood stock still and looked in wonderment. She was breath-takingly beautiful. She was small and had a curved figure. She also had prominent arm muscles and a broad back for someone with her stature. Her brown hair had auburn tints when it caught the light and it came down to her shoulders in thick waves. Her eyes were delicate and blue and a her mouth was small with its corners turned upwards in a mischievous smile. I faltered for a second. How could I possibly even think about destroying this woman? It would be an absolute tragedy. I could feel the warm glow of her soul all the way from here. She burned so bright, brighter than the sun. I was supposed to put that light out. As black-hearted and evil as I was, when I looked at her, I felt stirrings in my heart. I remembered the man that I had been a long ago, the one who loved his wife and son and did all he could to help those in need. Before the thorns had choked my heart and my soul had become twisted. But I quickly closed that channel of thought. Zankou had made it very clear that my only chance of freedom was killing her and I certainly had no desire to return to Arlandia. My barriers came back up and a darkness clouded my brain and I set my mouth. I cared not about her fate. She would undoubtedly try to kill me anyhow, from what Zankou had told me. I must not feel any sympathy or underestimate her. Nevertheless, I would wait a short while before I attacked her. I had learnt from bitter experience that it is best to find out as much about your target as you can before making a move. You can then assess their strengths and weaknesses and can take advantage of their vulnerabilities. The calculated approach always succeeds. Those that charge in without thinking always fall flat on their faces. So, I sat and waited.

……..  
After watching her for a day I had already come to one conclusion. This woman never paused to take a breath. She never seemed to have a moment to herself. Every minute of her day involved helping the numerous friends and colleagues that vied for her attention. She had the patience of a saint and gave each and every one of them her undivided attention, no matter how busy she was. When I first saw her, she had just come in from work. Within five minutes she spoke with a man named ‘Darryl’ on the phone and she was asked to accompany the police on a house raid. They were raiding the house of a man they suspected of armed robbery, drug dealing and domestic abuse. They needed her help to successfully remove his computer for examination. She did not hesitate and immediately reassured Darryl that she would be right there. 

Staying invisible, I followed her out of the door and down the stairs. Keeping up with her was not difficult, it seemed after all these years that she had blending in down to a fine art and she deliberately slowed her pace. At a quick glance, she appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary human. But those of us who knew better could soon see the tell-tale signs that she was different. Although fresh faced and without a wrinkle in sight, her eyes held the world in their depths. The blue eyes were world weary and full of a grim acknowledgement of life’s trails and hardships. I recognised myself in her eyes. I too had learned such lessons but my pain had made me cold and unyielding, whereas hers had made her more determined than ever to help those around her. It occurred to me that she was actually older than I, having been born centuries before me. Although she looked far younger, having been turned at an earlier age. I was 38 when my world turned upside down, but from looking at AEthelflaed, I would say that she had been 20 when she became immortal. I wondered whether she too had a child? I remembered how painful it had been to lose Emilio and I felt a twinge of pain. What had become of her children, if they ever existed? I sighed in exasperation. What was I doing? These thoughts would not make my mission any easier and they would achieve nothing. Why did I care anyway? I had existed for years without my conscience, so why was it suddenly rearing its head? 

I had killed Morgan Firth, the leader of the 500th Arlandian Peasant Uprising and I had shown no mercy. I had been so angry with him, that I had personally gone down to his cell and twisted my sword in his belly until he bled like a stuck pig. He had begged for death every time, but I healed him at the crucial point and then started all over again. I had not thought about whether he had any children he would leave behind. I knew that he had a father, sister and a brother, but I cared not for their suffering. Eventually, I had left him in his cell without food for two weeks before I then sent my guards to march him out in front of the populace for a very public execution. My pursed lips curved upwards at the memory of the shocked faces of the crowd. Too bad that they had made him a martyr and risen again a year later. Shaking off thoughts of the past, I returned to the present, none the wiser. Whatever my reason was for thinking about AEthelflaed’s past, I knew what I had to do and nothing would stop me from carrying out the deed.

By the time my inner monologue ceased, we were walking into the police station. Soon this ‘Darryl’ appeared and I could now put a face to a name. He was African-American and fairly tall with short, dark hair and a crisp suit on. I sensed that he was a man under pressure right away. He had a dark patch of stubble adorning his smooth face and he kept nervously adjusting his tie. In fact, he moved it so much that I thought he was going to choke himself with it. But then I’m sure that he would be fine, as I assumed that Ethel knew how to save humans from dying. The woman seemed to be multi-talented and I was sure that there was nothing that she couldn’t do. Except, it seemed, telling these annoying people to go away. 

Darryl filled her in on the situation and asked her in a clipped voice how long she reckoned it would take her to hack into the computer system. Ethel replied that of course it would depend of the type of system the suspect had and the strength of his passwords and password encryption etc but that as an experienced hacker, she thought it would probably only take three hours. At this Darryl’s mood seemed to lighten a shade but his anxiety remained. Sensing his agitation, Ethel patted him reassuringly and told him that had complete confidence in him and his team. With that they gathered the rest of the task force and headed to a group of cars emblazoned with police logos.   
Riding in the so called ‘cars’ was more awkward that expected. Darryl and his fellow policeman sat in the front and Ethel and another policeman sat in the back. The thing with invisibility is that although you cannot be seen by others, that does not mean that your body is reduced in size. There still needs to be enough room for your body to fit in. The danger is that if there isn’t enough space and you are too close to another person, it is still possible for them to feel your presence. Luckily there was a space between Ethel and the burly officer. The question was, would I fit in without either of them sensing me?

As it turned out, it seemed that I had got away with it, but it was a tough fit. On one side I had Ethel, who I sent a silent prayer of thanks to for being so small. On the other was the big officer, who she called ‘Smithers’. He was about six foot ten inches, broad shouldered, muscled and very wide. With brown hair clipped short and piercing grey eyes, he was very imposing. However, even he let out a roar of laughter when she elbowed him in the ribs after making a joke about a pair of rabbit slippers she’d once seen him wearing on an emergency night call. Unfortunately, she did not know that I was between them and her actions caused me to crash into Smithers. Given his bulk I merely bounced off him and went back into Ethel. I scowled at Smithers, only to realise that it was useless as he could not see me. I cursed the speed of these police cars. In my day we had carriages and they didn’t go nearly as fast. Neither did they have piercing bells. I covered my ears in annoyance and sighed. Smithers then made the unfortunate decision to put his hands on his hips and his sharp elbow dug into me for next ten minutes.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the oaf decided that his arms were aching and we arrived at our destination. I grimaced, at last things were looking up. The car came up an abrupt halt and we all piled out. In front of us was an ordinary building on a quiet, dark street. A light shone in one window and we could see a couple sitting down and watching a moving picture. The rain started to drizzle and a dog barked threateningly in the distance. I could feel the tension in the air and I knew that everyone else could too. Several officers shifted soundlessly up the path in front of the dwelling and waited, guns hidden under their overcoats. In the dim light of the porch I could see their looks of unease. They were not fooled by this scene of domesticity. Ethel zipped up her coat and shadowed them, waiting for the signal. Darryl stood closest to the door and he indicated that they should proceed with a grim nod of his head. He then stepped up and rang the doorbell. My demon senses could just make out the shuffling of feet and a man cursing under his breath, before the door opened slowly. A man dressed in nothing but a bathrobe appeared at the door. Thankfully it was done up well and we couldn’t see anything undesirable. He held a glass of what looked like whisky in his hand and he wore an unassuming expression. 

‘Good evening officers, is there anything I can do for you?’ He peered round the door, seemingly unalarmed by the fact that there was a group of eight policeman poised and waiting outside the door. 

Darryl stepped forward and held out his badge, ‘Mr Lakeman, my name is Detective Darryl Reynolds We are here to inspect your residence because we have reason to believe you are engaging in illegal activity. Would you please kindly step aside?’ Moving past Lakeman, he entered the house. 

The other officers followed him and Ethel and I snuck past at the back of the group. That left Officer Williams still outside to guard the cars and make sure that there was no trouble while we were gone. It turned out to be fortunate that he was there. Just as the door was closing behind us, I heard the clink as the suspect put down his glass of whiskey on the table. I turned to look back and saw that Lakeman was fumbling around in a pot by the door that held umbrellas, just under a coat stand. The officer outside must have instinctively felt that something was amiss, as he hurried quickly up the path. He got there just before the door closed and once he was in, he realised exactly what Lakeman was searching for. The officer whipped out his gun quick as lightning and shot the unfortunate man in the shoulder. He plunged backwards in surprise and hit the table behind him with a crash, knocking it over. Needless to say, his whisky did not survive and the glass and contents littered the floor, accompanied by soil and the remains of a houseplant. The smell of soil and Bourbon filled the air in a heady mixture. Two officers ran back to the front hall and together with Officer Williams they handcuffed the suspect and held him down so he could do no more harm. 

The rest of the crew had split up by this point and some had gone further to the back of the house in search for where he kept his guns. Meanwhile, Ethel and Darryl had ventured into a back room and had broken down the door. I assume that that was the room in which the computer was kept. The rest of the officers were in the living room checking every nook and cranny for any incriminating objects. Caught between the living room and the front hall, I gazed at the scene. I then saw the outline of a figure come down the stairs and pause at the bottom. I then saw he or she raise their rifle and I almost uttered a cry of warning. I had only been with the group fifteen minutes and I already felt as if I was one of them. How bizarre. Ethel had been in the other room, but I heard her cry, ‘There’s an armed suspect!’ and as if on cue the figure started shooting and bullets sprayed madly in the air. At the sound of her warning the officers had raised their rifles and some of them started to fire, while others ducked and ran for cover behind the sofa.   
In the midst of all this, I watched how Ethel reacted to the situation. I wondered what her role would be. Obviously, she needed to get the computer but it looked as if this was going to be a bloody confrontation and only she was strong enough to protect all of the officers. However, I assumed that Darryl alone knew what she was and she could not do anything which would reveal her true nature to the rest of the task force. 

The sound of the gun fire was deafening. Ethel and Darryl took advantage of the chaos and the shooter’s preoccupation. Moving as quickly as they could, they came were behind her. Ethel then grabbed the perpetrator around the waist and wrestled the automatic rifle out of her hand. It made a squeaking sound as it was kicked across the wooden floor. It was then quickly snatched up by one of the officers and deposited in a bag in his pocket for safe keeping. Darryl then came around the side of her and put his gun close to her face, ‘Madam, you are under arrest for shooting police officers. Anything you say now will be used against you in a court of law.’ Several officers then came forward to arrest her and Darryl signalled that Ethel should let her go with a nod of his head. She smiled grimly and released the woman. I realised that it was fortunate that the suspect was slight, because that would make it easier for the others to accept that Ethel could tackle her. If she had been bigger then there might have been more questions. Once she had been secured, Ethel went back into the room and continued to gather up all the computer equipment. I followed her and watched in fascination. The room had been secured with an electronic code system but the door lay hanging off his hinges like a drunken sailor on a ship. Inside, lights were activated on entering and there was a whole lab’s worth full of equipment. Monitors beeped and flashed, piled together on a shelf above. Cables criss-crossed over themselves in a black mess. With no windows the room smelt musty, although one would assume that it had a fair amount of use. A large kit bag lay on the floor and Ethel was in the process of transferring the equipment from the desk to the inside of the bag. She wore plastic gloves and moved like lightning. She moved so fast that she blurred and I appreciated for the first time exactly how powerful she truly was. The world only saw such a small part of who she was. I felt almost privileged to be able to see her true self. It also crossed my mind that it was amazing that she had not even the slightest inclination that someone was watching her. I did not know whether to congratulate myself on my considerable power or feel concerned that she had no idea of what lay ahead. She was as clueless as I had been all those years ago. I had no idea that my family would soon be taken from me and my whole life destroyed. But would I have wanted to know? People say that ignorance is bliss and I am inclined to agree.

An hour later, it was all over. Lakeman and the woman (who had turned out to be his wife) were transported to custody and Ethel and the team went their separate ways. The officers had also managed to pick up eighty guns that Lakeman had kept hidden in his basement, as well as numerous bags of suspicious powder, which would be tested in order to properly identify their exact nature. Mrs Lakeman also had several cuts and bruises on her body which had been given to her by her gracious husband. The officers hoped that they could get her to testify against him in court, despite of her defensive actions earlier in the evening. 

Before they went home, Smithers and several other officers thanked Ethel heartily and grinned at her, saying that she was their Superwoman and they didn’t know what they would do without her. She grinned back at them and winked, saying that they were too kind and told them to say hi to their wives and families on her behalf. Darryl was the last to go and he smiled at her ruefully.   
‘You did really well back there. You saved us all and I don’t think the others suspect anything.’ 

She smiled at him and said ‘Thanks Darryl! What’s more, I managed to get what we wanted,’ she briefly showed him the contents of the bag. ‘I’ll let you know what our friend can tell us about Lakeman and his activities.’ They shared a look of satisfaction. 

‘I’ll be eagerly awaiting your call,’ Darryl replied.   
Ethel swiftly put the bag down and gave Darryl a hug, ‘Take care of yourself in the meantime, won’t you? Say hi to Sheila for me!’ 

He hugged her back and sighed, ‘Yeah, I’ll try my best! You too! You haven’t had any trouble have you?’ 

She rolled her eyes, ‘Which particular group are you talking about? Zankou or the Volturi? In fact, you might as well add Piper to that list too because she’s always getting on my case about something!’ 

He laughed knowingly, ‘Well just give me a general summary.’ 

She held up her fingers and counted: ‘Firstly, the Volturi are always on my tail. Last week they sent Felix after me and I managed to send him on his way. Before he left, he informed me that by keeping silent on the whereabouts of Cal I was signing my death warrant and that Aro and Caius would not let it slide. Then the other day Piper was telling me that she would kick my ass unless I put in a good word for Leo with the whitelighters. She knows that me and Cressida go way back and that they would be more likely to treat Leo with leniency over the Avatar incident if I had a word with them,’ she then put up a final finger, ‘As for Zankou, I’m not sure. Everything seems to have gone quiet and I can’t quite figure out what’s going on. I’ve a talk with the sisters and they have no idea either. We reckon that he must be up to something. After all, our temporary alliance against the Avatars is now null and void, since everything is back to normal. We reckon he must be working on a plan, but we are none the wiser as to what it is.’ 

Darryl groaned. ‘God, is there ever a time when someone doesn’t want to kill you?’ 

Ethel nodded matter of factly, ‘Oh yes there is Darryl. Sometimes they want something from me instead. It’s actually quite refreshing. You know what they say, change is as good as a rest.’ She winked drily. He chuckled darkly, ‘I have no idea how you put up with it all. I feel that I’m being torn in two between the sisters and my wife. That’s quite enough for me, but it’s nothing compared to what you must go through on a daily basis.’ 

His eyes filled with moisture and he coughed and shifted his feet, ‘You are the strongest person I know.I wish there was something I could do to help, but I already feel stretched.’ 

I could see that she was really touched by his comments and leaning on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thanks ever so much Darryl. You have such a good heart. Honestly, there’s nothing you can do and even if there was, I wouldn’t ask anything of you. You have enough weight on your shoulders already. Besides, I have lived for centuries and have endured many hardships. Sometimes you have to stand in the rain and carry on, no matter how soaked you get. Life is hard but I would rather go through pain than not live at all. Don’t worry about me, you’re tired and you’ve been working hard. Go home to bed and I’ll see you later on in the week.’ 

With that they parted and she made her way home. 

……

We reached her apartment at quarter to one in the morning. However, no sooner had she put all the equipment down than she was disturbed once more. Her phone trilled its harsh sound from the kitchen where she had left in on the side. Rolling her eyes, she ran to it and picked it up.

‘Ethel Helpline, open 24 hours a day. How may I help you?’ She listened intently, ‘Phoebe! Are you ok?’ A frown appeared on her brow. ‘Ok, ok, slow down. Hold on. Whatever is, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Even if it is, we can deal with it, we always have before.’ She turned so that she was leaning with her back to the counter, her legs crossed in front of her. She idly played with a strand of hair that had worked its way loose from her ponytail. It seemed as if Phoebe was doing most of the talking as she hardly said a word in the next five minutes. Then finally, ‘Look, it’s late honey. No, I know it’s not late for me, but it is for you. You said that you needed to go into work tomorrow. I think you need to get some rest. How about I meet you tomorrow, 9:00 pm at P3? We can discuss this then.’ She smiled, ‘Okey dokey, ‘night honey and sleep tight. Please don’t let your worries keep you up.’ She put the phone down and crossed her arms, lost in thought. Her gaze moved towards the computer that now sat on her desk. With calm determination, she sat down at the computer and began to crack its contents. 

Despite telling Darryl that it would take her three hours, she exceeded expectations. Within an hour she managed to hack into the computer and access the treasure trove of evidence that it held. Beyond the encrypted passwords lay countless receipts from the purchase of firearms and even one for a bomb making kit purchased from a place called ‘the dark web.’ There were also a number of gratuitous photos of Mrs Lakeman with a swollen eye and bruises in various stages of development. Lakeman it seemed had been part of a gang of men who had all been domestic abusers and had they been in competition with each other to see who could give his wife the most spectacular beating. Ethel looked with anger in her eyes at the photos and I could see that she wished she could personally give Lakeman a taste of his own medicine. She gasped in shock as she flicked through more and more images. 

‘People can be so sick. How could you possibly even contemplate doing such a thing?’ She asked the empty air. 

My heart sank as I too looked at the images. I realised that in some ways I was not dissimilar to this man. If Arlandia had had the technology I could imagine displaying pictures of Morgan Firth after what I’d done to him. I would have laughed in triumph and sent it to as many of those peasants as I could. There is an idea that everyone is the hero of their own story and no one sees themselves as a villain. I hadn’t thought of myself in any particular light until that moment. I had been too cold and dead to notice or care. But in that moment, I felt that I was seeing myself for the first time. Ethel did not even know that I existed, but in judging Lakeman I felt as though she was judging me. He might be a human and I might be a demon, but we were both powerful and we enjoyed using our power for cruel ends. I felt a wave of repulsion. How had I gone so far off the beaten track? I realised that a small part of me had started to believe that maybe I didn’t have to kill Ethel. I cared about her and maybe if I explained the whole story to her and tried to make amends for the things I had done then she would forgive me. Maybe all was not lost. But I heard a snide voice in my head and it spoke loud and clear. 

‘You know how evil you are’, it said, ‘you’ve always known really. Do not try to deny it. You’re in deep and there’s no way out. You may think that by acknowledging your monstrosity you can somehow atone. But it is too late for that. Your heart is pitch black and no one can save you from yourself. You might as well accept it. You think that Ethel would save you if she knew you were watching her? She would recoil and get as far away from you as she could. You know she would. Kill her quick and then you will never have to live with the prospect of her rejection.’

It was then that I made up my mind that I was going to kill her. There was no other way. My destiny had been forged long ago and try as I might, I could not escape from it. I was who I was and the writing was on the wall. It was in my nature to kill and Ethel had to die.


End file.
